CHAPTER I.

THE ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS.

SIXTH EDITION.

THE

ANATOMY

OF

DRUNKENNESS.

BY ROBERT MACNISH,

AUTHOR OF “THE PHILOSOPHY OF SLEEP,” AND MEMBER OF THE FACULTY

OF PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS OF GLASGOW.

SIXTH EDITION.

GLASGOW:—W. R. M’PHUN, PUBLISHER;

N. H. COTES, 139, CHEAPSIDE, LONDON.

MDCCCXXXVI.

Glasgow:—E. Khull, Printer to the University.

TO

DAVID M. MOIR, ESQ.

SURGEON, MUSSELBURGH,

THIS WORK IS INSCRIBED,

WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF ADMIRATION,

BY HIS SINCERE FRIEND,

ROBERT MACNISH.

ADVERTISEMENT.

TO THE FIFTH EDITION.

In preparing the present edition of the ANATOMY OF DRUNKENNESS for the

press, I have spared no pains to render the work as complete as possible.

Some parts have been re-written, some new facts added, and several

inaccuracies, which had crept into the former editions, rectified.

Altogether, I am in hopes that this impression will be considered an

improvement upon its predecessors, and that no fact of any importance has

been overlooked or treated more slightly than it deserves.

R. M.

_20th Sept. 1834._

CONTENTS.

PAGE

CHAPTER I.

Preliminary Observations, 15

CHAPTER II.

Causes of Drunkenness, 28

CHAPTER III.

Phenomena of Drunkenness, 36

CHAPTER IV.

Drunkenness Modified by Temperament, 52

CHAPTER V.

Drunkenness Modified by the Inebriating Agent, 61

CHAPTER VI.

Enumeration of the Less Common Intoxicating Agents, 98

CHAPTER VII.

Differences in the Action of Opium and Alcohol, 106

CHAPTER VIII.

Physiology of Drunkenness, 111

CHAPTER IX.

Method of Curing the Fit of Drunkenness, 120

CHAPTER X.

Pathology of Drunkenness, 132

CHAPTER XI.

Sleep of Drunkards, 170

CHAPTER XII.

Spontaneous Combustion of Drunkards, 175

CHAPTER XIII.

Drunkenness Judicially Considered, 190

CHAPTER XIV.

Method of Curing the Habit of Drunkenness, 197

CHAPTER XV.

Temperance Societies, 223

CHAPTER XVI.

Advice to Inveterate Drunkards, 236

CHAPTER XVII.

Effects of Intoxicating Agents on Nurses and Children, 241

CHAPTER XVIII.

Liquors not always Hurtful, 246

APPENDIX.

No. I.

Excerpt from Paris’ Pharmacologia, 257

No. II.

Mr. Brande’s Table of the Alcoholic Strength of Liquors, 260

CHAPTER I.

PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.

Drunkenness is not, like some other vices, peculiar to modern times. It

is handed down to us from “hoar antiquity;” and, if the records of the

antediluvian era were more complete, we should probably find that it was

not unknown to the remotest ages of the world. The cases of Noah and Lot,

recorded in the sacred writings, are the earliest of which tradition

or history has left any record; and both occurred in the infancy of

society. Indeed, wherever the grape flourished, inebriation prevailed.

The formation of wine from this fruit, was among the earliest discoveries

of man, and the bad consequences thence resulting, seem to have been

almost coeval with the discovery. Those regions whose ungenial latitudes

indisposed them to yield the vine, gave birth to other products which

served as substitutes; and the inhabitants rivalled or surpassed those

of the south in all kinds of Bacchanalian indulgence—the pleasures of

drinking constituting one of the most fertile themes of their poetry, in

the same manner as, in other climates, they gave inspiration to the souls

of Anacreon and Hafiz.

Drunkenness has varied greatly at different times and among different

nations. There can be no doubt that it prevails more in a rude than in

a civilized state of society. This is so much the case, that as men get

more refined, the vice will gradually be found to soften down, and assume

a less revolting character. Nor can there be a doubt that it prevails

to a much greater extent in northern than in southern latitudes.[1] The

nature of the climate renders this inevitable, and gives to the human

frame its capabilities of withstanding liquor: hence, a quantity which

scarcely ruffles the frozen current of a Norwegian’s blood, would scatter

madness and fever into the brain of the Hindoo. Even in Europe, the

inhabitants of the south are far less adapted to sustain intoxicating

agents than those of the north. Much of this depends upon the coldness of

the climate, and much also upon the peculiar physical and moral frame to

which that coldness gives rise. The natives of the south are a lively,

versatile people; sanguine in their temperaments, and susceptible, to an

extraordinary degree, of every impression. Their minds seem to inherit

the brilliancy of their climate, and are rich with sparkling thoughts

and beautiful imagery. The northern nations are the reverse of all this.

With more intensity of purpose, with greater depth of reasoning powers,

and superior solidity of judgment, they are in a great measure destitute

of that sportive and creative brilliancy which hangs like a rainbow over

the spirits of the south, and clothes them in a perpetual sunshine of

delight. The one is chiefly led by the heart, the other by the head. The

one possesses the beauty of a flower-garden, the other the sternness of

the rock, mixed with its severe and naked hardihood. Upon constitutions

so differently organized, it cannot be expected that a given portion of

stimulus will operate with equal power. The airy inflammable nature of

the first, is easily roused to excitation, and manifests feelings which

the second does not experience till he has partaken much more largely

of the stimulating cause. On this account, the one may be inebriated,

and the other remain comparatively sober upon a similar quantity. In

speaking of this subject, it is always to be remembered that a person is

not to be considered a drunkard because he consumes a certain portion of

liquor; but because what he does consume produces certain effects upon

his system. The Russian, therefore, may take six glasses a-day, and be

as temperate as the Italian who takes four, or the Indian who takes two.

But even when this is acceded to, the balance of sobriety will be found

in favour of the south: the inhabitants there not only drink less, but

are, _bonâ fide_, more seldom intoxicated than the others. Those who

have contrasted London and Paris, may easily verify this fact; and those

who have done the same to the cities of Moscow and Rome, can bear still

stronger testimony. Who ever heard of an Englishman sipping _eau sucrée_,

and treating his friends to a glass of lemonade? Yet such things are

common in France; and, of all the practices of that country, they are

those most thoroughly visited by the contemptuous malisons of John Bull.

It is a common belief that wine was the only inebriating liquor known

to antiquity; but this is a mistake. Tacitus mentions the use of ale or

beer as common among the Germans of his time. By the Egyptians, likewise,

whose country was ill adapted to the cultivation of the grape, it was

employed as a substitute for wine. Ale was common in the middle ages;

and Mr. Park states that very good beer is made, by the usual process of

brewing and malting, in the interior of Africa. The favourite drink of

our Saxon ancestors was ale or mead. Those worshippers of Odin were so

notoriously addicted to drunkenness, that it was regarded as honourable

rather than otherwise; and the man who could withstand the greatest

quantity was looked upon with admiration and respect: whence the drunken

songs of the Scandinavian scalds; whence the glories of Valhalla, the

fancied happiness of whose inhabitants consisted in quaffing draughts

from the skulls of their enemies slain in battle. Even ardent spirit,

which is generally supposed to be a modern discovery, existed from a

very early period. It is said to have been first made by the Arabians in

the middle ages, and in all likelihood may lay claim to a still remoter

origin. Alcohol was known to the alchymists as early as the middle of the

twelfth century, although the process of preparing it was by them, at

that time, kept a profound secret. The spirituous liquor called arrack

has been manufactured in the island of Java, as well as in the continent

of Hindostan, from time immemorial. Brandy appears to have been known to

Galen, who recommends it for the cure of voracious appetite;[2] and its

distillation was common in Sicily at the commencement of the fourteenth

century. As to wine, it was so common in ancient times as to have a

tutelar god appropriated to it: Bacchus and his companion Silenus are

as household words in the mouths of all, and constituted most important

features of the heathen mythology. We have all heard of the Falernian and

Campanian wines, and of the wines of Cyprus and Shiraz. Indeed, there

is reason to believe that the ancients were in no respect inferior to

the moderns in the excellence of their vinous liquors, whatever they may

have been in the variety. Wine was so common in the eastern nations, that

Mahomet, foreseeing the baleful effects of its propagation, forbade it

to his followers, who, to compensate themselves, had recourse to opium.

The Gothic or dark ages seem to have been those in which it was least

common: in proof of this it may be mentioned, that in 1298 it was vended

as a cordial by the English apothecaries. At the present day it is little

drunk, except by the upper classes, in those countries which do not

naturally furnish the grape. In those that do, it is so cheap as to come

within the reach of even the lowest.[3]

In speaking of drunkenness, it is impossible not to be struck with the

physical and moral degradation which it has spread over the world.

Wherever intoxicating liquors become general, morality has been found on

the decline. They seem to act like the simoom of the desert, and scatter

destruction and misery around their path. The ruin of Rome was owing

to luxury, of which indulgence in wine was the principal ingredient.

Hannibal’s army fell less by the arms of Scipio than by the wines of

Capua; and the inebriated hero of Macedon, after slaying his friend

Clytus, and burning the palace of Persepolis, expired at last of a fit

of intoxication, in his thirty-third year. A volume might be written in

illustration of the evil effects of dissipation; but this is unnecessary

to those who look carefully around them, and more especially to those who

are conversant with the history of mankind. At the same time, when we

speak of drunkenness as occurring in antiquity, it is proper to remark,

that there were certain countries in which it was viewed in a much

more dishonourable light than by any modern nation. The Nervii refused

to drink wine, alleging that it made them cowardly and effeminate:

these simple people had no idea of what by our seamen is called _Dutch

courage_; they did not feel the necessity of elevating their native

valour by an artificial excitement. The ancient Spartans held ebriety

in such abhorrence, that, with a view to inspire the rising generation

with a due contempt of the vice, it was customary to intoxicate the

slaves and exhibit them publicly in this degraded condition. By the

Indians, drunkenness is looked upon as a species of insanity; and, in

their language, the word _ramgam_, signifying a drunkard, signifies also

a madman. Both the ancients and moderns could jest as well as moralize

upon this subject. “There hangs a bottle of wine,” was the derisive

exclamation of the Roman soldiery, as they pointed to the body of the

drunken Bonosus, who, in a fit of despair, suspended himself upon a tree.

“If you wish to have a shoe of durable materials,” exclaims the facetious

Matthew Langsberg, “you should make the upper leather of the mouth of a

hard drinker—for that never lets in water.”

If we turn from antiquity to our own times, we shall find little cause

to congratulate ourselves upon any improvement. The vice has certainly

diminished among the higher orders of society, but there is every reason

to fear that, of late, it has made fearful strides among the lower.

Thirty or forty years ago, a landlord did not conceive he had done

justice to his guests unless he sent them from his table in a state of

intoxication. This practice still prevails pretty generally in Ireland

and in the Highlands of Scotland, but in other parts of the kingdom it is

fast giving way: and it is to be hoped that the day is not far distant

when greater temperance will extend to these jovial districts, and render

their hospitality a little more consonant with prudence and moderation.

The increase of drunkenness among the lower classes may be imputed to

various causes, and chiefly to the late abandonment of part of the duty

on rum and whisky. This was done with a double motive of benefiting

agriculture and commerce, and of driving the “giant smuggler” from the

field. The latter object it has in a great measure failed of effecting.

The smuggler still plies his trade to a considerable extent, and brings

his commodity to the market with nearly the same certainty of acquiring

profit as ever. It would be well if the liquor vended to the poor

possessed the qualities of that furnished by the contraband dealer; but,

instead of this, it is usually a vile compound of every thing spurious

and pestilent, and seems expressly contrived for the purpose of preying

upon the vitals of the unfortunate victims who partake of it. The extent

to which adulteration has been carried in all kinds of liquor, is indeed

such as to interest every class of society. Wine, for instance, is often

impregnated with alum and sugar of lead, the latter dangerous ingredient

being resorted to by innkeepers and others, to take away the sour taste

so common in bad wines. Even the colour of these liquids is frequently

artificial; and the deep rich complexion so greatly admired by persons

not in the secrets of the trade, is often caused, or at least heightened,

by factitious additions, such as elderberries, bilberries, red-woods,

&c. Alum and sugar of lead are also common in spirituous liquors; and,

in many cases, oil of vitriol, turpentine, and other materials equally

abominable, are to be found in combination with them. That detestable

liquor called British gin, is literally compounded of these ingredients:

nor are malt liquors, with their multifarious narcotic additions,

less thoroughly sophisticated or less detrimental to the health. From

these circumstances, two conclusions must naturally be drawn; _viz._,

that inebriating agents often contain elements of disease foreign to

themselves; and that all persons purchasing them should endeavour to

ascertain the state of their purity, and employ no dealer whose honour

and honesty are not known to be unimpeachable. Liquors, even in their

purest state, are too often injurious to the constitution without the

admixture of poisons.[4]

The varieties of wine are so numerous as almost to defy calculation.

Mr. Brande, in his table,[5] gives a list of no less than forty-four

different kinds; and there are others which he has not enumerated.

Ardent spirits are fewer in number, and may be mostly comprised under

the heads of rum, gin, brandy, and whisky. The first is the prevailing

drink over the West Indies, North America, and such cities of Great

Britain as are intimately connected with these regions by commerce. The

second is extensively used in Holland and Switzerland, the countries

which principally furnish it, and has found its way pretty generally

over the whole of Europe. The third is chiefly produced in Charente

and Languedoc, and is the spirit most commonly found in the south.

The fourth is confined in a great measure to Ireland and Scotland, in

which latter country the best has always been made. Of malt liquors we

have many varieties. Britain, especially England, is the country which

furnishes them in greatest perfection. They are the natural drinks of

Englishmen—the _vinum Anglicorum_, as foreigners have often remarked.

Every town of any consequence in the empire has its Brewery; and in

almost every one is there some difference in the quality of the liquor.

Brown stout, London and Scotch porters, Burton, Dorchester, Edinburgh,

and Alloa ales, are only a few of the endless varieties of these

widely-circulated fluids.

Besides wines, ardent spirits, and malt liquors, there are many other

agents possessing inebriating properties. Among others, the _Peganum

Harmala_ or Syrian rue, so often used by the sultan Solyman; the

_Hibiscus Saldarissa_, which furnishes the Indian bangue, and from

which the _Nepenthes_ of the ancients is supposed to have been made;

the _Balsac_, or Turkish bangue, found on the shores of the Levant;

the _Penang_, or Indian betel; the _Hyoscyamus Niger_; and the _Atropa

Belladonna_. In addition to these, and many more, there are opium,

tobacco, _Cocculus Indicus_, and the innumerable tribes of liqueurs and

ethers, together with other agents of a less potent nature, such as

clary, darnel, and saffron. The variety of agents capable of exciting

drunkenness is indeed surprising, and in proportion to their number seems

the prevalence of that fatal vice to which an improper use of them gives

rise.

The anatomy of drunkenness · 第 1 / 18 章